


20/20

by The Red Squirrel (Just_a_Fangirl)



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, ONLY 20 DAYS UNTIL THE MOVIE I LITERALLY DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO HANDLE MYSELF, Richie the Scientist, Summer of 1959, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-18
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2018-12-16 23:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11839224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_a_Fangirl/pseuds/The%20Red%20Squirrel
Summary: Richie's got a nagging feeling at the back of his mind that he's missing something important, and he worries his eyesight is so bad he may not be able to see what's right in front of him.





	20/20

Richie was fascinated by Ben Hanscom. The kid was just so in love you could feel it coming off him. And although Richie was no stranger to the concept of love (he listened to a lot of music, and most songs were about love, even when it didn’t seem like it) he knew it was unusual for a _kid_ to feel it so strongly. The kind of love Ben was about was a real adult thing, and Richie was impressed by it, just as much as he was bewildered.

It was a downright wonder that Bev herself didn't notice it, but Richie guessed it was one of those things where the people closest to the situation couldn’t really see it for what it was. _Sometimes you can’t see the forest through the trees_ , his dad had once said, and Richie had spent all evening trying to work that one out in his head. But watching Bev being so oblivious around Ben, he kind of understood it now: sometimes you needed to take a step back.

Of course, it didn’t help that Bev only had eyes for Bill – maybe that was why she couldn’t see Ben so clearly.

But Bev’s lack of reciprocation didn’t seem to faze Ben all that much. In fact, Richie kind of thought that if she ever turned round and said ‘I see the way you look at me and I feel the same way – let’s kiss!’ Ben might actually die. The depth of his feelings were incredibly adult, but even Richie could tell Haystack needed to grow up a little more before he would be able to do anything about those feelings, or get any sort of benefit out of being in love.

But no, that wasn’t really true now, was it. Ben was getting plenty out of his feelings for Bev, even if it wasn’t through any particular effort or intention on her part. When Bev was around, Ben came alive. You could just see it – his eyes were were brighter, his cheeks full of colour (sometimes _too much_ colour), his brain worked quicker, he was braver, stronger, more impulsive and fun. For the first few seconds when Bev showed up he may freeze, and he could even grind to a halt if Bev actually touched him. But mostly he was just... _more_ . Not just happier: being in love made Ben’s life mean _more_ to him. And Ben was fully aware of that fact, and embraced it. If you watched close enough, you would see those otherwise insignificant moments when Bev would do something and Ben would light up like a Christmas tree. You could tell what he was thinking, even if it was just ‘RED ALERT! RED ALERT! BEVERLY MARSH APPROACHING!’. You could tell he would replay these moments with Bev over and over in his mind, that’d he’d stay up all night smiling to himself, could tell he thanked God just to be alive so he could experience these things. This was what Richie found so fascinating. Ben was the only kid he knew who felt anything this deep for another person, and he managed not only to accept and live with his one-sided love, but to enjoy every moment of it.

And after a while of watching all this and being fascinated, Richie realised he was jealous, too.

It took him a while to notice this, because Richie wasn’t used to having such negative feelings about his best friends. When he realised what it was, he wanted to explore that feeling – to prod it and poke it and get right up in its face – so he could figure it out and get rid of it.

So Richie watched closer. And eventually he began to wonder if maybe he was jealous not because Ben had someone who made him feel that way, but because he was so aware of it.

Richie didn’t feel like he needed to go out and get himself a Bev – he already had a group of friends he loved more than anything – but he worried that if ever found one, he wouldn’t realise what he had. He didn’t know why he was afraid of this idea, just like he didn’t know why he was so afraid of clowns or werewolves, or why he got a funny feeling whenever he saw that ugly old Paul Bunyan statue. It was just a fear inside him, a niggling feel at the back of his mind that said ‘ _You feel right when you’re with your friends, Richie. You don’t need anything more, and you know it. So what is it that makes you feel that way?_ Who is it _, Richie?_ ’

Something about it made Richie’s chest feel tight. He didn’t want to be blind like Beverly. She may be happy enough without the love Ben was sending her way in secret, but Richie couldn't help but feel she would have been happier _with_ it. Sure, he knew she liked Big Bill but...Richie couldn't help but feel Bill wasn't the right person for Bev. It was Ben, he was sure of it, and Beverly wasn't even able to see that.

It scared Richie, the idea that something so important could be right there in front of him and he might not even _know_ that he couldn’t see it. Like some kind of amnesia of the eyes.

Richie had been turning these sickly, troubling thoughts over in his mind for a while now, and the first time he found himself and Ben alone they found themselves spilling out. 

‘You love Bev, huh?’ Richie asked, not really needing the confirmation but offering Ben a way out if he wanted it.

A bunch of them had been playing in the Barrens but now Ben and Richie were the last ones there, as Richie had kindly agreed to help Ben finish the daily load of snacks he’d brought down before they headed home for dinner. They were sitting on a dirt slope overlooking a bend in the Kenduskeag. The stream was black under the shadows of the heavy foliage, but from their highground up on the slope, the two boys were bathed in a warm, orange glow from the sunset.

Ben was silent for a bit, staring out over the water. ‘Yeah,’ he admitted after a while. He was obviously embarrassed to say it, because a rush of red flowed up his neck and onto his cheeks and the tips of his ears. But there was no point denying it.

‘How did you figure it out?’ Richie said, before he really knew what he was going to ask.

Ben snorted. ‘What do you mean? It was kind of obvious – you don’t just…get feelings like this without noticing it.’

Richie frowned, thoughtfully, hugging his knees to his chest and resting his chin atop them. ‘But that’s just how it is for _you_. Do you think it could be different for different people?’

‘Could what be different?’

‘I dunno, like…love and stuff?’

To his credit, Ben thought this over – even though, privately, he couldn’t imagine love being any different than how he'd first felt it for Beverly. _This_ was what love was, he was sure of it. And besides, love was such a universal concern there had to be some kind of standard norm for everyone to recognise it as the same thing. It was always pretty much the same in the movies, right? Eyes meeting, soft focus, and that was pretty much that. That was how it had been for Ben, too.

‘I don’t know, Richie. I only know what it was like for me.’ He wanted to ask what had prompted all this, but was hesitant in case Richie got embarrassed. Then he remembered it was Richie Tozier, and he would probably admit it anyway – even if he personally didn’t mean to, his mouth might run away with the truth before he could stop it.

‘Why do you ask?’

Richie blinked at the sunset, looking surprised, as if he genuinely didn’t know where these questions had sprung from, or wondered why they were there.

‘You got me there, Haystack. I hadn't really thought it through that far.’

Ben looked at Richie thoughtfully as the other boy gazed out, unseeing, over the Barrens. He decided that Richie was mostly telling the truth: he really didn’t know.

But then Richie spoke up again, his voice sounding as if it were coming from far away, deep thoughts from a deep well where big, important things lived inside a person, even before they were aware of it themselves. Ben would have found this weird coming from any other kids, but with the Losers it wasn’t so strange. There was more in them than there seemed to be in other kids, sometimes, and they could tell each other things that sounded strange and deep and there would be no judgement.

‘It’s like I’m looking at the world without my glasses on,’ Richie explained, slowly. He frowned as he said ‘glasses’, and his hand went up to fiddle with one of the arms – and Ben could tell Richie wasn't aware he was doing this. ‘I can see shapes and colours and the _ideas_ of things but not the reality behind it all. Like, I know there’s a beautiful sunset or something right in front of me, but I have to imagine it myself. And if I don’t focus in quick, the sun will set and I’d lose it forever and never know what I missed, and have to listen to other people tell me how great it was.’

Ben nodded solemnly.

‘So put your glasses on,’ he suggested.

Richie was silent for a few long seconds, as if he hadn’t heard Ben. Then his eyes came back into focus and he snorted. ‘Gee, thanks for that Haystack! What would I ever do without you!’ he laughed, turning to Ben at last and shoving him in the arm. Ben rocked a little to one side, but couldn’t really be moved by Richie’s lanky limbs.

‘I’m serious,’ he said, and Richie stopped laughing, looking at him with confused eyes that showed a glimmer of hope and eagerness behind those thick glass lenses. ‘Put them on and take a good hard look at everything,’ Ben continued. ‘It sounds like you’re expecting to see something, and now you’re actually looking I’m sure you’ll notice it when you see it.’

Richie turned back to the river and then buried his head in between his knees with a groan.

‘You think so?’ his voice mumbled.

Ben nodded decisively to himself. ‘Sure I do. You’re not that stupid, Richie Tozier, no matter how much you pretend to be.’

Richie chuckled thinly. It turned louder as he raised his head again, then it became a full blown laugh, and before long he was back to polishing off Ben’s snacks and covering himself in cookie crumbs as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

But Ben knew better now. He’d always been a little fascinated by Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier. The boy was ridiculously smart without even trying, not just when it came to school but in his perceptions and understanding of the world around him. He also knew more about sex than any other kid their age, which counted for a lot when you were a twelve year old boy. He was ambitious and funny and bold, too – sometimes too much for his own good. The only thing was, you couldn’t always tell if was serious or not, and Ben could be confused by Richie as much as he admired him.

He had a good feeling about this, though – Richie’s first foray into romance. Ben may have had a few years' experience in the field, but he was pretty sure the other boy would overtake him in knowledge and experience soon enough. Richie Tozier was the kind of person who got what he wanted, once he set his mind on something. He also seemed like the kind of person who would love sincerely and completely, without any hesitation. Whoever he had his eye on was a lucky person, indeed.

Ben just hoped they could handle what was coming their way!

 

* * *

 

Richie had six best friends. He loved them all so much he couldn’t imagine needing anyone else in his life for as long as he lived. There were no finer people in the world than Bill Denbrough, Eddie Kaspbrak, Stan the Man Uris, Mike Hanlon, Beverly Marsh and Ben Hanscom. If he really didn’t need anyone else ever, then it seemed that one of these people must be the one giving him that niggling feeling that said ‘ _You want what Ben’s got? You’ve already found it, Richie, you’re just too blind to see it._ ’

So, as Ben suggested, Richie decided to put on his metaphorical glasses and do a little experiment.

One of the key things he had learnt from watching Ben around Bev was that when the person you loved touched you it was like all your Christmases and birthdays had come at once. Touching was The Biggest Deal, even if it was an accidental brush. You could almost read it on Ben’s face, a neon sign flashing ‘ _Bev just touched me. I’m going to think about this and smile giddily to myself for the next 24 hours._ ’

So Richie would find an excuse to touch all his friends, and see if any of them gave him that special feeling.

First up was Bev.

Richie hadn’t bothered to tell himself it _must_ be Bev that would give him that feeling because

( _she's not the one_ )

he thought this was because it was so obvious that it didn’t need to be said. She was the only girl in the group, after all.

You couldn’t ever call Bev on the phone or go round her house, because her dad would find out and get mad. But Richie knew the places she hung out when she wasn’t already in the Barrens with the boys, so he put his yo-yo in his pocket and set out to find her.

‘Why, howdy Miss Marsh!’ he called happily in a lazy attempt at a cowboy Voice, jogging over to the bench in Memorial Park where she sat drinking a frappe. She might have wanted to be left alone, because this was the park to go to just to have some peace and quiet – but Richie was so focused he didn’t think of that right now.

‘Remember how you were teaching to teach me how to walk the dog last year?’ he asked.

‘I remember I was _trying_ to,’ Bev smirked.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Richie agreed, too preoccupied with putting his plan in motion to joke back. ‘I’ve been having a spot of bother with the old Duncan,’ he rushed on in his English butler Voice. ‘The blasted contraption won’t seem to follow orders, eh wot! If it wouldn’t cause madame to much trouble, would y—’

‘I don’t have all day, Rich,’ Bev sighed, tiring of Tootles (even his closest friends – maybe even _especially_ his closest friends – could get sick of his bad impressions sometimes), and Bev had had a rough morning at home. ‘Especially if you’re going to make me spend the next four hours teaching you a simple yo-yo trick.’

‘Oh, yeah, ‘cause you look sooooo busy,’ Richie retorted sarcastically, all in good humour. ‘I’m so sorry to take precious time away from your frappe and staring at the birdbath. My bad. Do you have any openings tomorrow?’

Beverly blushed. ‘Alright, alright. What do you want? _In your own voice!_ ’ she added quickly, as Richie opened his mouth with a too-big grin on his face. The smile faltered only slightly and then picked up again.

‘Can you show me how to put it to sleep again? I think I’ve got the hang of the other stuff you showed me, but I still have trouble with that one.’

In reality, Richie only played with his yo-yo these days when he was meant to be tidying his room and would unearth it from beneath a pile of clothes or comics or records, and he hadn’t touched it in months until yesterday. But he’d gone hunting it for it especially, because it seemed like a great way to instigate some casual touching. And as he’d hoped, they spent the next half an hour playing with the yo-yo, sometimes passing it back and forth and taking turns, other times Bev would try to teach him something and her hands maneuvered his gently as she showed him how to do it properly.

And there were no butterflies in Richie’s stomach. Not even a twinge.

( _but you’d known there wouldn’t be_ )

She was pretty, Richie knew that because the world was keen on telling him how to judge women’s looks and what should be considered beautiful. But apart from feeling a rush of fondness for his dear, good friend – so eager to help him that she’d fallen right into his trap with the yo-yo – Richie felt nothing.

And from his lack of surprise, Richie kind of suspected he’d known that it wasn’t Bev. That was why he hadn’t told himself it _must_ be her: he’d known it deep down, all along.

( _see, not that stupid, just like Ben said_ – _maybe you’re not so blind after all_ )

 

* * *

 

The next day, Richie forgot all about his experiment while he was hanging out with Bill and Mike (which wasn't a good sign in and of itself), until Ben showed up and it reminded him he was suppose to be figuring out if he was in love with somebody.

Richie decided to kill several birds with one stone and pretended, in his exaggerated excitement over Ben’s arrival, to turn into a human pinball, bouncing between Bill and Ben and Mike and crashing into each of them in turn, making loud ‘DING DING DING’ arcade machine sounds. It was a little less subtle and planned out than his efforts with Bev yesterday, but after it was done, Richie wondered if

( _knew_ )

that was because he’d always known it wasn’t any of them, either. He didn’t feel anything magical or mysterious in his gut as he pressed into Mike’s side for a second, or flailed into Bill, wrapping his arms around him for just a moment before ricocheting into Ben and finding themselves almost nose to nose.

He felt like the luckiest guy in the world, like he loved his best friends who accepted him and loved him back as if it was no effort at all. But that was normal, and he felt it for all of them. Even Big Bill didn’t get such special treatment as the big capital-L _Love_ in Richie’s heart, though he was still the one Richie looked up to most. Bill was special, sure, but he wasn’t _that_ kind of special for Richie.

There was someone else out there who was special in a way just for Richie, and Richie was determined to find them.

 

* * *

 

Richie had wondered

( _had you really, though?_ )

if it might be Stan the Man.

Stan was different from the rest of them, and Richie didn’t know if the others were aware of this. Maybe it was just him, and maybe he thought Stan was different because Richie _liked_ him in a different way. But even as Richie put his experiment into motion with Stan, he suspected this was not the case.

Stan was different in a way that made him a little sad. He felt like Stan was growing up quicker than all of them – even Bill, who’d been through too much heartache for a kid, and Bev who’d had enough shit from her dad to make up a lifetime of suffering already. Stan seemed more mature than all of them, which was cool – but he also seemed more grown up, which was not. Being more grown up meant Stan sometimes couldn’t throw himself into their make-believe games. He often wouldn’t want to come down to the Barrens anymore, because it wasn’t well-maintained like the nice clean parks, and he’d have to pay so much attention to making sure his clothes didn’t get snagged on a branch or damp from the ground that he couldn’t have proper fun. And sometimes when Richie got off a Good One, one that made the others break up, Stan would just look at him perplexed; it was the same look Richie’s mom would give him sometimes when she couldn’t quite keep up with his antics.

Richie sort of wanted to love Stan just so Stan wouldn’t slip away from him.

‘Stan, let’s arm wrestle!’ was Richie’s idea this time.

‘Why?’

Richie scoffed, though inside he felt that rush of sadness in his chest that jerked at him every time Stan said something like that – as sudden, disorienting and scary as if he’d missed a step going down the stairs and thought he was about to fall.

‘What do you mean, “why”?’ he retorted.

‘I mean, what’s the point? I would destroy you, Tozier, I feel like it’s not worth the time or energy it would take me to prove this.’

There was a barking laugh from Bev who was sitting nearby, playing Pooh sticks by herself now that Richie had figured out how to try his experiment on Stan.

Richie looked at Bev, then smiled back at Stan, relieved he was back to being a kid again. (Though he was pretty sure, for a second, Stan really _had_ meant ‘Why would I do something so childish?’ Maybe Stan didn’t even know it himself.)

‘Sounds to me like you’re scared, Uris. What are you, a chicken?’ He clenched his fists under his armpits and flapped his arms up and down. ‘BWAAAAHHK! BWAA—’

He’d barely got out one good chicken squawk before Stan pounced on him and they tussled on the grass, Stan trying to clamp his hand over Richie’s mouth and Richie trying to shout out obnoxious chicken sounds through his laughter. Richie was so happy that Stan was actually doing something childish that he could barely fight back – though, admittedly, Stan probably would have got him in the end even if he’d been trying.

Stan eventually pinned Richie, exhausted, to the ground, with both hands stacked over Richie’s trashmouth. He glanced down in triumph.

‘Told you so.’

One of Richie’s eyebrows quirked up in challenge, and then he stuck out his tongue and licked Stan’s palm. Stan actually shrieked, and he jumped off of Richie so fast he toppled backwards and fell, undignified, right on his butt.

‘Richie, you dog turd! That’s disgusting!’

Bev and Richie laughed at his outrage, and then Richie helped pull Stan up from the ground and they joined Bev racing sticks in the canal.

It didn’t occur to Richie until that night that he’d forgotten all about his experiment with Stan. Stan had been all over him as they wrestled, they’d even held hands for a second as Richie helped Stan up. He’d _licked_ the guy, for God’s sake! But Richie hadn’t even thought about that stuff as it happened, which must mean he wasn’t in love with Stan.

 

* * *

 

There was only Eddie left now.

This was because Eddie had been away for a few weeks that summer, since around the time

( _the exact same time_ )

Richie had started to wonder about this whole love business, and worry that maybe he was missing something.

Sonia Kaspbrak called it a vacation; Eddie called it cruel and unusual punishment.

‘It’s my great-grandma,’ he’d told everyone, miserably. ‘She’s really old and I think my mom thinks she’s not gonna last much longer. We’ve got to go over to Colorado for a whole month – I think my mom wants to stock up on memories of her or something, in case we don’t ever see her again.’

‘Oh, Eddie, I’m sorry,’ Bev said, mistaking his grim look for sadness. She put an arm around him but he shook his head and laughed – grimacing at the sound as if he felt bad for it immediately.

‘It’s not that,’ he explained. ‘I know it sounds mean but my great-grandma’s basically a stranger to me. I haven’t seen her since I was seven, and I barely even remember _that_ time. It just sucks – I’d much rather spend the summer with you guys.’

Eddie had left a few days after the start of their school holidays, and he’d been gone about

( _a hundred years!_ )

three weeks now. And maybe Eddie being gone so long didn’t help matters, because Richie found himself thinking almost non-stop about his experiment, and how, suddenly, the idea of touching Eddie seemed to be a pretty Big Deal. Which was weird because Richie normally touched him all the time without even thinking about it. Richie normally touched Eddie a lot, in fact, always finding some excuse or another. He liked to do it because

( _you want to_ )

Eddie gave the best reactions.

He was sure that if Eddie had just been around Derry, he wouldn’t be building it up in his head. Or maybe trying his experiment on Eddie just felt like such a big deal because all he had left to do was see about Eds, and then...well, then he’d see what he would see.

Another week dragged on after Richie tried his experiment on Stan Uris, and sure, there were times when he would forget about the last test he had left to do. He’d just be with the other Losers having a great summer, and he wouldn’t even notice Eddie was gone. But there were also times

( _a lot of times, most of the time_ )

when Richie would slump in the middle of a game or a conversation and wish Eddie were there. But that probably didn’t mean anything, either;

( _I thought we’d decided you weren’t blind or stupid_ )

Richie loved all his friends, and he’d miss any of them if they disappeared for a whole month. And the fact that trying his experiment on Eddie kept popping, thrillingly, into his mind, was only because Eddie wasn’t here, and he had too much time to think about it.

Richie didn’t know the exact day Eddie was actually coming back, so the morning he arrived down in the Barrens and saw everyone huddled together he didn’t give it a second thought as he barrelled over, Irish cop Voice blaring.

‘Faith an’ Beggorah! What’s all the commotion, boyos?’

Bill and Ben stepped aside, and there in the middle stood Eddie.

This was the moment Richie realised where that niggling feeling about love had been coming from. It had been coming from every memory, and thought, and feeling about Eddie Kaspbrak. Tired of being ignored, just because Richie was too dumb, or too young, or too blind, to figure it out.

 _Notice me! I’m right here!_ those thoughts had been saying.

He heard them now, and nothing else. Saw Eddie’s face look up at his, standing out from the others in a beam of morning sunshine that lit him like a spotlight. (If Ben had been able to see things from Richie's view, he would have nodded approvingly. This was just like it was supposed to be, if not a few years late.)

Eddie looked at him with wide eyes, maybe because Richie was frozen in place, not able to talk for once in his God damned life. Richie felt like he could have stayed there, motionless, for a long time, but his feet seemed to carry him forward of their own accord – he watched it through his own eyes as if someone else were controlling his body. Richie made a beeline straight for Eddie, wrapped his arms around the boy’s waist and lifted him into the air, squeezing him.

All for his experiment, naturally.

Eddie shrieked the way Stan had done about a week before. ‘Richie! Get the hell off me!’

‘No way!’ Richie heard himself saying through a wide, beaming smile, finding his voice at last. He twirled Eddie round on the spot, his heart leaping when he felt Eddie grip his shoulders to steady himself. ‘I’m not letting you go for the rest of the summer!’

( _and maybe not after_ )

He’d answered his own question he’d put to Ben all those weeks ago, without realising why he wanted to know. No, falling in love wasn’t the same for everyone, but that was okay. He hadn’t known it was Eddie from the moment they’d met, but Richie was kind of okay with that. That meant they’d got to become friends and have fun together first. It was okay if Richie sometimes forgot he was in love with Eddie and they just goofed around like any other pair of friends – Richie didn’t think he could handle being as anxious and excitable as Ben always was around Bev. He couldn’t even look her in the eye sometimes, poor kid, whereas Richie basically had a free pass to be all over Eddie because that's the way it had always been. (He wasn't too concerned about whether Eddie actually _wanted_ Richie all over him. Eddie put up a fuss, but it didn't seem like he minded Richie's attention all that much.)

So it had taken Richie a while, but he could see things clearly now. He hadn’t expected the view to be this beautiful but, now he was here, he was looking forward to getting to know it a whole lot better – this brand new world that had been hiding inside the old one, where loving Eddie Kaspbrak just made life mean a little more.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I'm back. Two Reddie fics in a week - I can't quite believe it! Actually, yes I can because I just love them so muuuuuch!
> 
> This was meant to be a fluffy Reddie fic, but then when I did a re-read to edit it, I realised Eddie wasn’t even in it except for like one paragraph at the end. Oops! Also, I know I didn’t make this clear, but Eddie is obvs in love with Richie, too, and they get together and live happily ever after. ...Until Stephen King tore them apart in canon. (TWICE! Fuck that guy.)
> 
> This one is not as sad as my first Reddie fic, because I do actually prefer fluff and romance. I just find it really hard to write happy stories for these two because I like to stick to canon when I write and...this ship doesn't fare so well in canon. TAT I mean, we do have a nice gap from September 1958 to spring 1960 which we can fill with fluff, but they're only 12-13 years old then, so you can't do much with that. I'm currently trying to come up with ideas for happy Reddie fics but it's kind of hard! (Which is so bizarre for me, because my fics in other fandoms are just teeth-rottingly sweet.) I do have an idea for a multi-chapter fic where I might be able to give them a happy ending and explore their relationship a bit more as teenagers/young adults. But I need to finish re-reading the book and taking notes first. I'm looking forward to that one, though!


End file.
